


Shorn

by beachbby



Series: Lotor week 2020/pers [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, fic begins w immediate noncon, skip the first two segments if u only want 2 read the h/c, the non-con isn't between keitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26091493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beachbby/pseuds/beachbby
Summary: Lotor is overconfident, and pays the price.-Day 2- Prompts: Scars/Noncon, NSFW work
Relationships: Keith/Lotor (Voltron), Lotor/unnamed character
Series: Lotor week 2020/pers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891393
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45
Collections: Lotor Week 2020





	Shorn

He’d been so _stupid._

No generals, no allies, alone for the time being, and he had thought it would be a good idea to _challenge_ the authority of one of his fathers former admirals. 

Challenged him, and lost. He’d underestimated him. 

The claws that gripped his hair tightened, scraping against his scalp as it pulled his head back, exposing his throat, and he knew they had broken skin. The fear that had been running through him forced a tremor through his limbs, the snarling of the man behind him making him burn. 

The scent surrounding him was dizzying. The anger the man was radiating, the pain that was coming from his insides, and the thick taste of lust in the air threatened to make him gag. 

A hard thrust forced a gasp from him and he grit his teeth, trying to get his body to relax and make it _easier_ , but the hammering of his heart forced his muscles to contract in an attempt to defend himself from harm. The only positive of the situation was how his head had gone fuzzy, lightheaded and empty and he could hardly hear the wet noises between them. 

His other hand gripped at Lotor’s hips, drawing a pained moan from him when they tore into his skin, scoring deep lines across his hip bones. 

He was bleeding, could feel it in the way it dripped from his hips and hair and from in between his thighs, and he could only fantasize about killing the man, the injuries from before weakening him to the point where he had no hope of fighting back. 

Humiliating. Utterly humiliating that he had allowed this to happen to himself. 

He clawed weakly at the earth, fingers twitching at the rough push-pull of the man’s motions. A breath shuddered out of him, heat prickling at the backs of his eyes as the man kept _clawing_ tearing his hips and thighs to ribbons as he forced Lotor to mold to his desires. 

Lotor wasn’t the sort to celebrate weakness, but when darkness bled into the corners of his vision as his body finally gave up, he couldn’t feel anything but grateful. 

-

Waking up was _pain._

Realizing that the former admiral had left him there, discarding him once he’d finished as if he hadn’t been worth the effort to kill, made his chest ache with a deep sort of hurt that he’d never felt before. 

He let out a ragged sigh, moving a hand up to touch at his face and flinching at the tear tracks that had long since dried, crusting to his cheeks and flaking away at his shivering touch. 

How vile. 

Slowly, he gathered himself, feeling oddly hollow, his eyes burning as he forgot to blink. His chin trembled and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to get himself to focus, the warm metallic taste of blood filling his mouth and he swallowed, forcing himself onward. 

He would have to recoup and compartmentalize his thoughts before he could even hope to do anything more. 

It was only when he reached up to run a hand through his hair that the realization that it had been shorn, cut into large, uneven chunks, the longest one just barely brushing against his collarbone, struck him. 

He whined, the sound low and deep in his throat as he clutched at what remained of his hair. It felt as if it had just been cut where the man had been holding onto it. The more he could feel of it, the worse it revealed itself to be. 

It hadn’t been this short since he was a _child._

A tremor ran through him, his breath coming in short gasps, irritating his raw throat and when the first sob wrenched itself from his chest, he couldn’t keep the rest at bay. 

How pathetic, he’d been utterly _violated_ and he was crying about his _hair._

-

It had taken him a long time to bear being touched again, and Keith was threatening to destroy the tentative progress he had made. 

He had no idea when this thing between them had started, perhaps when he began gravitating toward the other half-galra in lieu of his absent generals, but the way that Keith was tracing at the deep scars on his hips had him wishing he’d never spoken to the other. 

Well, that was harsh. Keith was being nothing but gentle, only using the pads of his fingers, careful to avoid scratching at him with his blunt fingernails. The nerve endings in his skin had been damaged in the initial act, all he could feel was the soft heat that radiated from his hands, and the barely-there pressure of his fingers. 

It felt as if he couldn’t breathe. 

He’d, they’d, well, Lotor had been expecting something more aggressive. He’d gathered the bravery to face this again, if only to collect another memory to push out the last, but the instant Keith had seen his scars, he’d lost his interest in anything sexual. 

It was different than what he’d expected, than what he’d prepared for, and his throat felt tight. 

He let out an uneven breath, tilting his head and loathing the way he could feel the ends his hair brush over his collarbones. 

Lotor had no idea if the cause of his scars was obvious to an outsider, but from the way Keith was touching them with a tentative sort of reverence, he was certain they were. The scars were jagged things, horrific and deep, and overlapped more than not. The scar tissue was a shockingly light shade of lilac, blatant against his other, darker skin, and when Keith ran the pads of his thumbs over his hip bones, a tremor ran through him. 

He loathed them. 

The shiver managed to draw Keith’s attention, the stark violet of his eyes burning into Lotor’s own, and he swallowed. He could never read Keith’s expressions and knew that the other couldn’t interpret his, either. He knew that. But knowing that did nothing to help him in the current situation. 

“You can continue, I had quite enjoyed where we were going.” He hadn’t, not really, but it had been expected. This wasn’t. 

Keith gave him a searching look, his face almost heartbreakingly beautiful as he tried to pick Lotor apart. “Alright,” he said, his voice no more than a whisper as he leaned up and in, pressing a soft kiss at Lotor’s cheek and he sighed, leaning back onto the bed, pulling Keith down with him. 

Lotor’s relief at the continuation was shortly lived, as Keith kept moving with him, giving him another feather-soft kiss before shifting and tucking himself into Lotor’s side, laying down next to him in a way that felt far more intimate than sex ever could. 

He drew in a sharp breath, feeling the way Keith’s hair tickled at his chest as the other sighed, melting into his side like putty. Lotor dared to glance down, a sinking pit in the bottom of his stomach as he realized that Keith had gone soft, uncaring about what he’d put a stop to. 

They were quiet, Keith eventually moving to throw an arm over Lotor’s middle and Lotor giving in to the urge to wrap an arm around Keith’s side as the other burrowed deeper into him, as if he was trying to touch as much of Lotor’s skin as possible. 

It was a long while before Lotor dared to speak again, his voice quiet, uncertain as to whether Keith was even still awake or not. “You don’t want to do anything?” The question sounded far too soft, coming from him, and Lotor hated how weak it made him feel. 

Keith answered after a moment, yawning, voice heavy with sleep. “No, I’m tired. I just want to lay down with you.” Oh. 

He moved to press an absentminded kiss to Keith’s hair, the clean scent of the soap he used managed to hide the more galra aspects of his scent. He buried his face into it, the thick strands of it lightly tickling his skin. Keith let out a tired hum, and when he didn’t comment on how Lotor’s breathing picked up, and how his hair slowly became damp, Lotor was so grateful it ached.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, sorry if this one wasn't too good. It made me realize I'm not really a fan of writing noncon lmfao, (not to diss anyone who does!) hopefully it wasn't too much of a slog. 
> 
> The Keitor at the end was definitely a jump XD sorry if the harsh transition gave anyone whiplash lmfao! 
> 
> Uhh, I guess go stream Realiti by aeseaes :p Also follow me on twitter @/tiddygirls if u want to!


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